


Boneless

by Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, M/M, Porn Watching, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:34:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26492725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum/pseuds/Keep_Calm_And_Expecto_Patronum
Summary: Ron’s current awkward predicament was all Harry’s fault.Mostly.Sort of.Regardless of who was to blame, Ron couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten here: bent over double with his own dick in his mouth***Written for the HP Crack!Fic Fest 2020***
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley
Comments: 18
Kudos: 100
Collections: HP Crack!Fic Fest





	Boneless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keyflight790](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/gifts).



> I've been absolutely gagging to write this pairing for ages now, so when I saw this prompt, I jumped at the chance. Thank you to keyflight790 for such a brilliant and inspiring prompt, and a big thank you to the mods for organising such a fun fest! I look forward to participating again in the future :)
> 
> Prompt: Ron uses Lockharts failed bone removal spell to remove the bottom few ribs so that he can bend farther and reach a far more important bone...r. Harry, of course, walks in and sees this display of ridiculousness.
> 
> ***Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended***

Ron’s current awkward predicament was all Harry’s fault.

Mostly.

Sort of.

Regardless of who was to blame, Ron couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten here: bent over double with his own dick in his mouth…

When the wizarding war had come to an abrupt end, the Golden Trio suddenly and unexpectedly found that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them. But what does one do once you’ve saved the world from the darkest wizard of the modern age?

Hermione’s decision to go back to Hogwarts and complete her studies came as no surprise to anyone. Although they’d miss seeing her on a daily basis, Harry and Ron both hoped that she would finally have a year where she could study for her exams in peace without the constant threat of mountain trolls, giant spiders and homicidal staff members to contend with. Indeed, Harry thought that his absence from the school all but guaranteed a more peaceful year for everyone.

Harry’s decision not to return to Hogwarts came as little surprise to anyone who actually knew him. He’d never been particularly studious, and when Kingsley had offered him a position as an Auror at the Ministry of Magic, even without his N.E.W.T.s, Harry had jumped at the chance. Ron was convinced that they’d have given him the Minister for Magic job if Harry had only asked for it (he’d more than bloody earned it) but his best friend was content as an Auror; it was, after all, his dream job.

Ron, of course, followed Harry’s lead and went wherever he did. Lucky for him, Kingsley had been more than happy to recruit him to the Auror program, too.

“Aside from the glowing report Harry gave me, I saw for myself at the Battle of Hogwarts how well you can handle yourself,” Kingsley had chuckled, shaking Ron’s hand when he had offered him the job. “I’m more than satisfied that you meet the skill and character requirements for the position.”

Truth be told, Ron wasn’t all that bothered about being an Auror. Certainly, he was good at his job, there was no doubt about that. But he would have been equally content spending his days at the joke shop, selling Skiving Snackboxes and Dungbombs to Hogwarts students. What he enjoyed most about his job was spending time with Harry. They’d spend their days chasing down dark wizards and their evenings at home in the little flat they shared in Muggle London eating cheap noodles from the local takeaway. It wasn’t much, but Ron was fairly content with his lot in life.

That said, moving away from home to Muggle London had been quite an adjustment for Ron. He had to be more careful about where he could perform magic for starters; he couldn’t run out of the flat with his broomstick in hand for an impromptu game of Quidditch whenever he fancied. Unlike The Burrow, there were no lush apple orchards in central London to obscure them from view. He was also quick to discover that Muggle rats were far more aggressive than the gnomes at the bottom of his parents’ garden, and he took extra care to avoid them whenever he put the bins out. He also privately missed his mum’s cooking, and now had a far greater appreciation for the amount of housework she must have done on his behalf (seriously, how could they have run out of clean clothes, cutlery and dishes already?) Still, Ron relished his newfound freedom: being able to come and go as he pleased, sleeping in as late as he liked on his days off from work, drinking milk from the carton and eating food straight out of the pot—it was every bachelor’s dream come true.

Ron also became quite accustomed to Muggle technology. The first thing that Harry had purchased for their new flat, even before they had transfigured some furniture for them to sit on, was a games console. Ron had frowned when he had first laid eyes on the black plastic box with snaking wires connecting it to the back of the television, bemused at how excited Harry was to have such a strange looking item in his possession.

“It’s a Playstation,” Harry had explained with a note of awe in his voice. “I’ve always wanted one of my own.”

Ron scrunched his nose and tilted his head. To his untrained eyes, it looked like nothing more than a cumbersome door stopper. “What does it do?”

“Loads of stuff.” Harry pressed a button on the front of the television and the screen turned bright blue. “You can play games, listen to music, watch movies—”

“Play games? Like wizard’s chess?”

“Better than that,” Harry boldly claimed.

Ron had been about to say that he seriously doubted that, but instead he yelped in surprise and staggered back a couple of steps as sound suddenly burst through the television speakers and bright colours flashed across its screen. Annoyed that Harry was laughing at his startled reaction, Ron had grabbed the closest thing to hand—a beat-up Quaffle—and tossed it at Harry’s head. Harry’s lightning reflexes made it easy for him to dodge the attack, but instead of catching the ball as Ron had expected, there was a sickening _crack_ as the beaten leather ball made contact with the centre of the plasma television screen. Ron and Harry had gasped and stared at the large cracks that now adorned the broken screen before turning to each other, mouths hanging open with shock.

“Oops,” was the only word Ron could muster in response. Lucky for them that they were wizards and it was nothing that a quick _Reparo_ couldn’t fix.

Although Ron wasn’t as keen on the games console as Harry was, he loved the espresso maker that Harry bought with his first wages. He particularly enjoyed making a cup for himself and Harry before they headed out for work for the morning, sometimes treating himself to another in the evening when they got home. And if he and Harry were on a late-night stakeout, he’d take a flask of it for the two of them. Soon, their flat was filled with all manner of surprisingly useful Muggle contraptions. They had a blender which they liked experimenting with to see what they could blend (turned out Hagrid’s rock cakes could not be blended). They also acquired electric toothbrushes and shavers, a microwave and kettle, and a virtual assistant called Alexa that Ron was less keen on as it struggled to understand his West Country accent. They even had a little robot that was programmed to clean the flat while they were out. Having grown up without electricity, it was rather novel to have so many electric items in his home. Ron did worry on occasion that he was turning into his father with his newfound appreciation for the ways in which Muggles coped without magic, but he was still a long way away from being a full-blown Mugglephile like Arthur Weasley—he hadn’t resorted to collecting electrical plugs just yet.

His favourite piece of Muggle technology, however, was his mobile phone. When Harry had bought him one for his birthday, Ron wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it at first.

“I still don’t see the point in having one when we could just use owls,” he argued.

“Calling is a lot less conspicuous than having Pig flying in and out of the flat every day,” Harry reasoned. “And it’s more than a portable telephone, you’ve got internet access, too. I’ll set you up a Facebook account, if you’d like?”

“Nah, I’m good.” Ron turned his new phone over in his hand a couple of times. “The internet is like a giant library, isn’t it? Sounds more like Hermione’s kind of thing.”

A mischievous grin spread across Harry’s face as he plucked the phone out of Ron’s hand. “Here’s something that might spark your interest.” His dexterous fingers flew across the screen and a moment later he tossed it back at him. “Don’t tell me that I’m not good to you.”

Ron narrowed his eyes suspiciously for a moment. Too many years spent living with Fred and George had made him cautious at being handed anything for fear that it would blow up in his face, but when he saw what was on the screen, his eyes widened with shock.

“Woah, what is _this?”_

Harry gave a casual shrug. “Oh, nothing. Just a little thing called _PornHub.”_

Ron’s eyes darted hungrily up and down the page. “I’ve been wasting my time with scatty old _Playwizard_ magazines when _this_ has been out there the whole time? Why didn’t you tell me about it before?”

“It never crossed my mind,” Harry laughed and glanced at his wristwatch. “We’ve still got a couple of hours before we’re due to meet everyone at The Leaky. You fancy heading down early and getting a few pints in before everyone else turns up?”

Ron slipped the new phone into his jeans pocket, cleared his throat and rose to his feet. “Thanks, but I think I’m just gonna head to my room for a bit and uh…you know, do some research.”

Harry’s ears turned a bright shade of pink but he laughed again. “It’s your birthday, mate. Have fun.”

Without a parting word, Ron turned tail and scurried to his bedroom as quickly as his legs would carry him. Slamming the door shut behind him, he flopped down onto his bed and proceeded to unbuckle his belt before he’d even found a video that he wanted to watch. With his cock in one hand, already half-hard with expectation, he used the other to scroll through the porn site, marvelling at the endless possibilities at his fingertips. What to search for first?

Ron’s eyes pored over the different categories—amateur, Asian, bareback—and felt a twinge of excitement shoot through him when he saw a category dedicated entirely to big dicks. Tapping on the link, a new page opened up to reveal hundreds of enticing videos for his perusal. Merlin, where to even begin?

He spent a couple of minutes browsing the site, lazily trailing the tips of his fingers up and down his length just to keep himself on edge, pausing when he saw a video entitled ‘Cute Twink Has Bareback Fun with Hunk Best Friend’. If the title wasn’t intriguing enough, the still image of the good looking brunette bloke sucking off his mate certainly was. Ron cast a quick guilty glance at the bedroom door just to be certain that it was closed before clicking on the video. Obviously, Harry knew what he was doing, but Ron still had a niggling worry that his best friend might somehow know what type of videos he was using for inspiration. Not that there was any deeper meaning behind it, he’d just always had a thing for brunettes.

Ron clicked on another video entitled ‘Giving My Best Friend a Birthday Blowjob’ and let out a wistful sigh. _If only,_ he thought to himself before swiftly pushing that treacherous thought aside. Taking a firmer grip of his prick, he pumped faster as he watched one of the blokes move between his mate’s legs and take his impressively large cock into his mouth, sucking it like it was an ice lolly on a hot summer’s day. Ron felt a rush of pleasure course through him as the bloke grabbed a fistful of the other guy’s dark hair and made him take more of his cock, groaning loudly as he began snapping his hips up into his friend’s needy mouth.

Two more thrusts into his own fist and Ron came with a sharp gasp. His phone slipped from his grasp and he bit on the back of his hand to muffle the sound, squeezing the last bit of pleasure from his spent cock. Wordlessly spelling the mess away, Ron roughly swiped the damp hair from his face and stared up at the Chudley Cannons poster on the ceiling above his bed. Well, that had been quick but ultimately, satisfying. Not as good as the real thing, of course, but infinitely better than the well-worn magazines he’d been relying on over the years. He checked the time on his wristwatch and hummed to himself: he probably had enough time to squeeze in another quick wank before they had to head out to the pub.

* * *

“Happy birthday, mate!”

A chorus of salutations followed as everyone clinked their pint glasses with Ron’s, sloshing butterbeer all over the already sticky pub table as they did so. He had succeeded in getting another brief but intense wank sesh in before Harry had banged on his bedroom door to remind him that their friends were waiting for them down at the pub. He was ashamed to admit that he would rather have spent the remainder of his birthday locked in his bedroom with digital dicks for company, but since Harry had already arranged the meet-up with their friends, he figured that it would be poor form to bail on his own birthday party.

Once he was there, however, five pints deep with his nearest and dearest, he really was enjoying himself immensely. He happily listened to Neville gush about his Herbology apprenticeship with Professor Sprout and laughed when Seamus tried and failed to chat up the barmaid with one of his pyrotechnic tricks. He even enjoyed arguing with Ginny about Quidditch and how the Chudley Cannons were in with a real shot of winning the league this season.

“I don’t care if you’re a Holyhead Harpie, Gin, my heart is with the Cannons. Always will be.” Ron raised his tankard and cried, “We shall conquer!”

“Bah! More like, ‘Let’s all just keep our fingers crossed and hope for the best’!” she scoffed. Downing her drink, she slammed the empty glass onto the table. “Who wants another?”

“I’ll get this round,” said Harry, rising to his feet. He squeezed Ron’s shoulder and smiled at him. “Same again, mate?”

“Yeah, cheers.” Ron watched Harry weave through the crowded pub towards the bar before he realised that Ginny and Hermione were both watching him with equally intense expressions. “What?”

“Enjoying the view?” Ginny asked.

Ron frowned. “What view?”

“Come on, Ron. Could you two be any less subtle?” she chided lightly. She and Hermione shared a knowing look with one another and started sniggering, which only confused Ron even more.

“Have I missed something?”

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes. “You usually do, Ronald.”

“Typical,” Ginny added.

Ron felt a stab of irritation then and asked, “Okay, I get that you two regularly enjoy laughing at my expense, but I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done this time. Seriously, what’s the joke?”

“Oh, nothing,” said Ginny innocently. “Just that if you stare any harder at Harry’s arse, you might bore a hole in his jeans.”

Ron pulled a face. “What are you on about?”

“You and Harry,” she pressed. “You know…”

“Aren’t you?” Hermione enquired, looking uncertain now.

Ron looked between the two of them with a blank expression. “Aren’t we what?”

“Together?” Ginny and Hermione chorused. It took a moment to sink in what they were suggesting, and a slightly hysterical laugh burst out of Ron in response.

“Me and _Harry?”_ he exclaimed. “What the hell gave you that idea?”

This time, Ginny and Hermione shared another—albeit more concerned—look with one another before turning back to Ron.

“Well…”

“We just thought...I mean, the way that you look at each other—”

“—the way that you _talk_ about each other—”

“—and you do live together—”

“—and neither of you are dating—”

“—Naturally, we just assumed…”

Hermione and Ginny snapped their mouths shut as Harry returned to the table with their drinks. “Here you go: Firewhisky for the birthday boy, Gillywater for Hermione, and Butterbeer for you, Gin. I’ll be back in a sec, I just need to grab the rest of them.”

When Harry turned and headed back to the bar, Ron made sure their other friends were busy chatting amongst themselves before he leant towards Hermione and Ginny and hissed, _“Naturally,_ you just assumed that I was banging my best mate?”

“Naturally,” Ginny concurred.

“I think you both need to lay off the sauce.”

Ginny let out a mirthless laugh. “I think you need to get your head out of your arse. Merlin, you really can’t see it, can you? It’s so obvious!”

“What is?” asked Ron angrily.

“That you and Harry fancy the pants off of each other!”

Ron could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He didn’t appreciate being made to feel stupid or being the butt of his sister’s jokes. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Sure you don’t.”

“I don’t!” Ron protested hotly. “Harry doesn’t fancy me, Gin, he’s my best mate!”

“So you admit that you fancy him?” Ginny challenged.

“Of course not!” he spluttered. “What gave you the idea that I—urgh, never mind, don’t answer that. Just stop taking the piss, will you? It’s not funny.”

“We’re not taking the piss,” said Hermione. “We honestly just thought that you and Harry...well, obviously we were wrong.”

Ron shook his head. “Seriously, where do you two come up with this stuff? You’re both mental.”

_“We’re mental?”_ Ginny cried. “More like you’re deluded!”

“Look, we’re sorry that we misinterpreted what was happening between you and Harry,” Hermione cut in, earning her a scathing look from Ginny. “Clearly, we were mistaken.”

“I’m not sorry for anything!” said Ginny. “It’s not my fault that my brother’s as dense as Hagrid’s treacle toffee!”

“Let’s just drop it, shall we?” Hermione suggested in a firm tone. “Harry’s on his way back.”

“Yes, please do,” said Ron stiffly, taking a swig from his drink. Ginny pursed her lips and slumped back in her chair, her expression sullen. Ron had no clue what had prompted Ginny and Hermione to make such outlandish accusations, but he was in no mood to continue the conversation any further. Ron and Harry—an item? Not bloody likely.

Harry handed Neville, Luna, Seamus and Dean their drinks before taking his seat next to Ron again. Harry raised his own drink to his lips but paused when he noticed the churlish expressions of his friends. “Uh, did I miss something?”

“No,” Ron answered quickly.

“Actually,” Ginny said loudly. “I was wondering what you got Ron for his birthday.”

Harry cocked an eyebrow at her. “Well, you were there when I bought it.”

“Ooh, what did you get?” asked Hermione interestedly.

Glad for a change in topic of conversation, Ron pulled the mobile phone out of his front pocket and showed it to his friends, who all ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ appropriately.

“Do you have Facebook?” asked Dean.

“If you do, you’ll need to add me!” Hermione chipped in.

“I prefer Instagram,” said Luna dreamily. “I like all of the pictures Muggles post of their pets.”

“Don’t download _Candy Crush,_ it’s such a time sink,” Seamus despaired.

“Has Harry shown you how to use it?” asked Ginny, snatching the phone out of Ron’s hand. He tried to grab it back off of her but she pulled the phone out of his reach with ease.

“Yes,” he replied through gritted teeth. “Give me my phone back, Gin.”

“It doesn’t look like you have the Grindr app,” she noted casually, ignoring his request. “Has Harry told you about that?”

“Urgh. Yes.”

“Would you like me to download it for you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What about you, Harry?” she asked, smiling at him. “Do _you_ have a Grindr profile?”

Harry looked slightly taken aback by the question. “Um, no.”

“Why not?”

Harry’s eyes flitted from Ron back to Ginny and he shrugged. Vindicated, Ginny handed the mobile back to her brother. Ron stuffed it back into his jeans pocket, safely out of reach from his meddlesome sister.

“I’ve got Grindr on my phone,” Dean mentioned casually. “If either of you happens across my profile, swipe left, please.”

Everyone laughed and the conversation moved on. Ron downed the rest of his drink, keen to forget that incredibly awkward and unnecessary interrogation from his so-called friends.

“Another drink?” asked Harry.

Ron nodded and slid the empty glass away from him. “Please.”

* * *

Ron couldn’t remember the journey home from the pub that night. That tended to be the sign of a good evening, as far as he was concerned. What he could remember, however, was stumbling into his bed and feeling incredibly horny. Despite his protestations earlier in the evening, he had, in fact, been checking out Harry’s arse. Not that there was anything to it, he told himself. He just appreciated a nice arse—any arse—in a form-fitting pair of jeans. If Neville had worn tight jeans, he was sure he’d have enjoyed that just as much. The mental image of Neville in low-cut jeans and a g-string popped into his head and Ron sniggered to himself. Okay, maybe not Neville. Maybe Dean? Ron tried to picture what Dean or even Seamus’s arses would look like, but his mind kept wandering back to Harry’s instead. Urgh, stupid Harry wearing those damn jeans. He never used to wear such form-fitting clothes; it wasn’t until they got the flat together that Harry’s clothes seemed to become...tighter. Urgh, why the hell was he obsessing over Harry’s arse? He had more important things to contend with, namely, this incessant hard-on that seemed to be in no hurry to leave. Reasoning that he wouldn’t be able to get to sleep unless he got rid of the damn thing, Ron fumbled through his pockets for his phone and swiftly fell down the rabbit hole of sexual depravity searching for something to rub one out to.

He watched a couple of videos with blokes, all conspicuously with dark hair, giving some spectacular looking blow jobs, but soon that wasn’t enough to sate his appetite. His search for pleasure became increasingly outlandish and imaginative as the minutes wore on; it was funny how one started out with vanilla sex scenes and quickly descended into watching videos with such creative titles as ‘Multiple Facials Cumpilation’.

Things took an interesting turn when he stumbled across a video of a bloke giving _himself_ a blow job. Ron was intrigued, but brilliant as it looked, he wasn’t sure if he was flexible enough to do that to himself. Figuring there was only one way to find out, Ron stripped out of the rest of his clothes, perched himself on the edge of his bed and bent over double, but despite his best efforts, he was nowhere close to getting his dick in his mouth. Ron sat up straight again and sighed. Okay, he hadn’t really expected that to work, but he wasn’t giving up yet. Maybe if he did that Plough Pose Ginny did when she practised her yoga? That didn’t look too difficult.

Lying down on the bed, Ron took a deep breath and kicked his legs and hips up towards the ceiling, only to lose control and backwards roll off of the bed onto the floor with a loud _thud._

“Argh! Fuck…”

A moment later there was a chap on the adjoining wall and Harry’s muffled voice called out from his bedroom, “You alright in there, mate?”

Ron crawled back onto his hands and knees and grimaced at the dull pain in his right hip where he’d hit the ground. “M’fine!”

“Are you sure?” asked Harry. “If you want me to grab a bucket and a glass of water—”

“NO!” Ron cried. “No, I’m good, thanks. G’night.”

“Okay,” Harry replied uncertainly. “Night, then.”

Ron let out a sigh and plonked himself down on the edge of his bed again. How the hell were those guys so bendy that they were able to suck themselves like that without magic? They must have a couple of their ribs surgically removed, or something—

Suddenly, a brilliant idea began to form in Ron’s mind: that wasn’t a bad idea! He dug through the tangle of bedsheets for his wand. That dimwit Lockhart had used the spell on Harry’s arm to disastrous effect, but Ron wasn’t useless as a wizard like Lockhart was. He knew what he was doing, he’d be careful. When Ron finally located his wand, he pressed the tip where his two lower ribs were located.

_“Ossio Dispersimus!”_

Ron shivered as he felt a strange tingling sensation inside of his body akin to when he let a Fizzing Whizbee melt on his tongue, but as quickly as the sensation had arisen, it vanished again. Ron moved experimentally from side to side: he still had his spine, so that was a good start. Pressing his fingertips tentatively into his stomach, Ron smiled to himself when he felt where his lower ribs had previously been was soft flesh. Taking a deep breath, he bent over again and— _success!_ —he was much more flexible now and could easily slip the tip of his dick into his own mouth. Ron couldn’t help but groan as he felt the heavy weight of his own flesh grow firm in his own mouth, so he gave it another experimental suck, sending a wave of pleasure shooting up his dick and through his whole body.

Fuck, this was filthy. Filthy and brilliant. It felt great sliding his lips up and down his own swollen length. He bet that it looked even better. Deciding that he wanted a decent view of what he was doing, he let his dick slip from his wet lips, snatched up his wand again and slid off of the bed onto the ground. He shimmied in front of the floor-length mirror until he had a clear view of himself: spreading his thighs as wide apart as he could, he marvelled at the sight of his hard cock hanging heavily between his legs, shiny with spit. At this angle, he got a good view of his arsehole as well; a tight pink rosebud that was being sorely neglected while Ron was focussing all of his attention on his cock. He would have to rectify this immediately.

Muttering a vibration charm under his breath, his wand began to quiver in his hand. When he pressed the tip of his wand against the entrance of his hole, he bit back a moan and pushed in a little deeper. Holy shit, that felt _brilliant._ Ron doubled down then, sucking his cock with unrestrained enthusiasm while he slowly fucked himself with his own wand. This was by far the dirtiest thing he’d ever done to himself, and the fact that he got to watch himself doing to it made it that much better. Oh Godric, he could rewatch himself doing it with a Pensieve! Wouldn’t _that_ be amazing? The only thing that would make this better would be if it were someone else doing it to him. No matter. For now, he was content using his imagination and his hand. And his mouth. Oh Merlin, his mouth felt _so good…_

Ron got so carried away sucking and fucking himself closer to completion that he didn’t hear the bedroom door creak open. He did, however, hear Harry’s concerned voice and then, in quick succession, a strangled sound and loud exclamation.

“How’re you feeling mate? I brought you some water in case you...wha—oh!”

Ron looked up then to see Harry, with a glass of water in hand, staring down at him, his eyes wide with shock and his mouth hanging open. Ron tried to scream but choked on his own dick instead and began coughing profusely. Instinctively, Harry stepped further into the room to assist his best friend, only to lurch backwards when Ron, scrambling for something to cover himself with, stuck his leg out and kicked his floor-length mirror, knocking it over and causing it to clatter down on top of his own head.

“OUCH! Fucking hell!”

“Shit!” Harry cried, hastily slamming the glass of water on the bedside table, spilling half of the contents in the process. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” Ron shouted, hastily pulling his quilt cover off of the bed to cover himself, watching with mounting horror and shame as his wand scuttled and buzzed across the wooden floor. It tapped insistently against Harry’s bare foot and when he bent over to pick it up, Ron wished someone would strike him down dead with the Killing Curse right there and then.

“No, don’t touch it!” he groaned. “Oh _god,_ don’t look at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Harry stammered, handing the still vibrating wand to his best friend. His face was beetroot red and he didn’t know where he ought to look, so opted for staring at the ceiling instead. “I just heard you making noises and I thought—oh god, I thought you were being sick because you’d drank too much and—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

“JUST GET OUT!” Ron shouted. “Please, Harry.”

Harry nodded vigorously and turned around so quickly that he battered his shoulder off of the doorframe. “Right. Sorry— _ouch_ —shit. Sorry, sorry. Goodnight, then.”

Harry slammed the door shut behind him leaving Ron sprawled in a heap on the floor, his boner well and truly dead.

“FUCK!” Ron cried, burying his face into his hands. Was there a spell he could cast which would open up the floor and swallow him whole?

* * *

Seeing the horrified expression on his best mate’s face had sobered Ron up in an instant, but it took him until late the next morning to muster up the courage to go and apologise to Harry. When he finally exited his bedroom, he half-hoped that Harry would still be asleep, but instead, he found him sitting on the edge of the couch playing video games. He seemed to be putting all of his effort concentrating on what was happening on screen, and glanced nervously at Ron when he entered the room.

“Morning,” Ron greeted him cautiously.

“Hi.”

An awkward silence followed as Ron lingered by the door, fighting every instinct in his body telling him to turn tail and run back to the safety of his bedroom. Instead, he cleared his throat and stared at his feet as he spoke, “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. That was, well...”

Harry’s face turned red again but he said hurriedly, “You’ve nothing to apologise for. I’m the one who’s sorry, I shouldn’t have barged into your room like that. I tried knocking and when you didn’t answer I got worried and just...yeah, that was stupid of me. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The dread that had gripped him all night immediately ebbed away when he saw the mournful expression on Harry’s face. Evidently, he’d spent the morning worrying about this conversation as much as Ron had. In some way, that made him feel a little better.

“It’s fine. I know that you meant well,” Ron assured him. “No harm, no foul, eh? Apart from scarring you for life. Sorry about that.”

Harry laughed and shook his head. “You didn’t scar me.”

Somehow Ron didn’t believe that. He nodded towards the television screen. “Whatchu playing?”

_“Diablo.”_ Harry picked up the spare controller and held it out to Ron. “Fancy a game?”

Ron couldn’t express in words how relieved he was to hear that. Nodding, he took the proffered controller and flopped down onto the couch next to Harry. He should have known that Harry wouldn’t make a big deal of this. “What did you go as?”

“A wizard.”

“Predictable,” Ron teased lightly. “I’ll go as the Barbarian.”

They played in comfortable silence for a while before Harry suddenly spoke up. “Um, about last night...” Ron groaned and rolled his eyes but Harry pressed on with a mischievous grin teasing his lips. “What? I haven’t even said anything!”

“Let’s just get the jokes out of the way already so that I can enjoy the rest of the day in peace, shall we?” Ron suggested.

“I wasn’t going to make any jokes!” Harry cried. “I just wanted to say that I had no idea you were so flexible.”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” Ron sighed.

“Well…” Ron punched Harry on the arm, but Harry just laughed. “Alright! I’ll shut up about it already.”

Ron let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. And don’t tell Hermione what happened, please. I’d never hear the end of it from her.”

“Of course not. Your secret’s safe with me.” Harry paused before speaking again. “But if you don’t mind me asking, _are_ you super flexible, or..?”

Ron couldn’t help but laugh. “Merlin, no! I used a bone removal charm on my bottom two ribs.”

“Ah, clever.”

“I thought so.”

“There’s another reason not to tell Hermione about it; she’d likely lecture you on misusing magic for your own sexual misdeeds.”

“Urgh, no doubt,” Ron muttered.

“As much as it pains me to say it, sometimes she has a good point,” said Harry carefully. “I know that I’m one to talk when it comes to personal safety—”

“But you’re going to lecture me anyway,” Ron grumbled.

“No, because that would be hypocritical of me. All I’ll say is that it’s probably not the best idea to perform magic when you’re drunk. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself, mate.”

Ron grimaced. He knew he’d fucked up if Harry, of all people, was pointing out the finer points of health and safety. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Most ideas do when you’ve had too much to drink.”

“And it was a good idea,” Ron argued. “Right up until you barged in and interrupted me.”

Harry gave him an apologetic look. “I still feel bad about that.”

“So you should,” he joked. “You know, technically, this is all your fault.”

Harry laughed. “How’d you figure that?”

“If you hadn’t bought me that bloody phone—or shown me _PornHub,_ for that matter—I’d never have come up with the idea in the first place. You’ve corrupted me.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night,” Harry teased.

Ron suddenly felt the heat rising in his neck. “Yeah, I’ll remember to put a Silencing Charm up next time.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Harry’s voice was unusually tense when he added, “It sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Ron’s hand slipped on the controller and he lost focus on what was happening on the television screen at those words. “Uh...yeah, I guess.”

“Hmm.” There was a long pause before Harry asked, “Would you recommend I give it a go, then?”

The mental image of Harry in the same compromising position pleasuring himself made Ron’s skin prickle with heat. He cleared his throat and shrugged. “Sure. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“Is it better than having someone else do it?” Harry asked casually.

Ron cast a sideways glance at Harry, whose gaze was fixed straight ahead on the television screen. Ron wasn’t sure where this line of questioning was going, but he thought about it for a moment before answering.

“I dunno. I mean, it’s always better if someone else is there, isn’t it? But it’s not like I’m going to get anyone else to do it for me any time soon, is it?”

“Hmm.” They fell silent again for a long time before Harry suddenly spoke up again, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Well, that never bodes well,” Ron quipped. He rolled his eyes at the irritable look Harry shot him. “I’m only joking! What have you been thinking?”

Harry seemed to lose his nerve then and he shrunk into himself a little. “Nothing. It’s a stupid idea.”

“Well, now I _have_ to hear it,” Ron chuckled.

“It’s nothing,” Harry protested but Ron paused the game and turned to face him.

“Stupid or not, I want to hear it. Go on. I’m all ears.”

Harry chewed his lip uncertainly for a moment before he continued. “Okay. Now, this is just a random thought that popped into my head, and if you’re not cool with it, then just say so, because it’s totally fine if you’re not. I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything unless you’re totally comfortable with it.”

Curiosity piqued, Ron shifted closer to Harry. “I’m listening…”

Ron frowned as he watched Harry wring his hands in his lap. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen him this nervous. “I just figure that, well...we’re best friends, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Ron chuckled. “I think that goes without saying.”

“Right, so it wouldn’t be weird, would it?”

“What wouldn’t be weird?”

Harry tried to give a careless shrug. “Well, I just thought that since neither of us are in relationships at the moment, and we both want...things...that we can’t currently get from anyone else, why not just get it from each other?”

Ron’s heart began to thump loudly in his chest. “L-like what?”

“You know... _things._ Like, you said that it always feels better getting head from an actual person, so um, why don’t I just do it?”

Ron stared at Harry. “Are you serious?”

“I mean, only if you want to,” said Harry quickly. “But I think it’s something worth considering. We’d be doing each other a favour, just friends helping each other out to relieve stress until, you know...someone else comes along or until you get bored of it.”

Ron couldn’t think straight. He never could where Harry was concerned, but this...he couldn’t quite believe his ears. “You um...you want to give me head?”

Harry shrugged again. “Sure, why not? It’s not like it’s that much different from sucking yourself off.”

Ron wasn’t so sure of that. “I suppose.”

“Plus, it would be a lot safer just to help each other out than to rely on magic,” Harry reasoned. “I mean, you were alright this time, but what if next time you mess up and vanish your skeleton by accident?”

“True,” said Ron thoughtfully. “I don’t fancy having to explain how that happened to the Healers at St Mungo’s.”

“Exactly. So yeah, it’s just something to think about.” Harry turned back to the television screen. “No pressure.”

Ron only needed a moment to think about it. “Okay.”

Harry’s head whipped around so quickly that Ron was surprised that he hadn’t given himself whiplash. “Y-yeah?”

Ron nodded. “Yeah. Like you said, we’re just friends helping each other out.”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“Right.”

“Okay, then…”

The living room seemed stiflingly hot all of a sudden. Ron and Harry looked uncertainly at one another for a few moments, neither one wanting to make the first move. Meanwhile, Ron’s mind was racing: were they going to do something right now or were they going to keep playing video games? He was suddenly aware of how close he and Harry were to one another; if only he leant forward a few inches, his and Harry’s lips would touch. Harry shifted infinitesimally closer to Ron before pausing, seemingly deciding better of it, his eyes fixed on Ron’s mouth. Shit, was Harry about to kiss him? It was only when the question popped into his head that Ron realised how much he wanted that to happen, but before his body could catch up with his brain, Harry was already moving away from him. Ron felt as though a Freezing Charm had been placed on him; he could only watch as Harry silently slid off of the couch and moved between Ron’s legs. It looked like they were done playing games for now.

Although his hands were shaking slightly, Harry—ever the brave one—rested them on Ron’s knees and Ron responded by spreading his legs, giving Harry silent consent to move closer. Ron held his breath as he watched Harry’s hands slide up the rough denim of his jeans, shivering as they moved higher, across his groin towards his belt. With a mixture of nerves and determination written across his face, Harry tugged at his belt, undoing the buckle before pulling down the zip.

“If you want me to stop or there’s something that you don’t want me to do, just say so,” he said in a low, soothing voice that helped to put Ron’s nerves a little more at ease. Unable to form words, he merely nodded, lifting his hips off of the couch so that Harry could pull his boxers and jeans down past his knees. When Harry’s eyes fell on Ron’s cock, already half-hard as it rested on his flat stomach, he let out a breathy laugh. “You’re bigger than I remember.”

Ron bit his lip. “Uh, is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Good,” Harry assured him as he bowed his head. “Definitely good.”

Ron’s breath hitched when Harry’s mouth made contact with his body. He pressed a soft, almost innocent kiss on Ron’s thigh, his hot, shaky breaths tickling the sensitive skin, then another one closer to Ron’s cock which twitched with anticipation. Ron chewed the inside of his cheek in a vain attempt to distract himself from the delectable sight in front of him. Harry hadn’t even touched his dick yet but he was legitimately concerned that the moment Harry’s mouth was on him, he would explode, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing. As though reading his mind, Harry took hold of Ron’s cock then and gently pulled back the foreskin to expose the head before giving it an experimental swipe with his tongue.

Ron gasped, _“Holy shit…”_

An amused smile spread across Harry’s lips at that reaction, so he did it again, slower this time, lapping the flat of his tongue over the full length before dipping the tip into the slit which was leaking precome. Ron probably looked comical with his mouth hanging wide open as he watched Harry drag his slick red lips up and down the shaft a few times before taking the full length into his mouth in one fluid motion.

_Bloody hell._ If he had thought watching porn was brilliant, it paled in comparison to what this was like. Ron began panting in short, sharp bursts, his entire body tense as a bowstring as Harry continued to expertly suck him off. The way in which Harry was looking at him just made it that much more intense and intimate, half-lidded eyes dark with want, looking at Ron as though he were something delicious, something to be coveted—it was as unexpected as it was empowering. He was clutching desperately at the corduroy fabric of the couch now, longing to reach out and thread his fingers through Harry’s mussed up hair, but he was still half-afraid that if he reached out the dream would shatter and he’d find himself in bed alone.

Steeling himself, he tentatively reached out and pushed aside the hair that had fallen over Harry’s face to better see his eyes, pupils blown with arousal, before carefully resting his hand on top of his head. Harry responded by letting out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating through Ron’s dick as he did so. Aching pleasure curled in the pit of Ron’s stomach and spread outwards through his body at how wanton Harry sounded. Emboldened, he laced his fingers through Harry’s raven black hair, marvelling at how soft it was to the touch, before grabbing a fistful and bucking ever so slightly into Harry’s needy mouth. Harry moaned louder then, hollowing out his cheeks as he sucked harder, bobbing his head back and forth, pushing Ron closer to climax with each stroke of his hot, wet mouth.

Ron was panting and moaning loudly now, no longer caring how he looked or sounded, as that familiar, pulsing sensation of his impending orgasm creeped through his groin and up his chest until it caught his breath. All the while, he couldn’t tear his gaze from Harry’s, entranced by the way his best friend watched him with hungry dark eyes.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he warned him, thinking Harry might want to pull away then. Instead, Harry doubled down, reaching between his own legs now to touch himself; watching Harry fucking into his own fist to the same rhythm that he was sucking Ron’s cock was enough to push Ron over the edge. _Playwizard_ and _PornHub_ could go to hell, as far as Ron was concerned—nothing was going to top this.

Ron let out a hoarse groan as he felt the tension inside him finally snap and release. His pleasure surged deep from his balls to the tip of his cock, pulse after pulse spilling out of him into Harry’s greedy mouth, who swallowed everything Ron had to offer.

Ron’s brain and body were still buzzing as his post-orgasmic high began to ebb away, and it was only then that he realised that he still had a tight hold on Harry’s hair. Embarrassed, he quickly released Harry from his vice-like grip, and that awkward and uncertain feeling of what to do next began niggling away at him. Harry, meanwhile, leant back on the hinds of his legs and swiped the spittle and leftover cum from his mouth, smiling sheepishly at Ron. “Was that okay?”

Ron stared at him for a moment before huffing out a shaky laugh. “Okay? That was bloody brilliant, mate.” Harry’s smile broadened then and Ron asked, “Do you want me to...um…”

“Oh. No, I’ve already done myself, thanks,” Harry explained, raising his right hand to show the sticky white mess on his palm.

“Oh.” Ron felt a twinge of disappointment that he couldn’t return the favour; he’d been keen to get a taste of Harry for himself. “Well, maybe I could do you next time.”

Harry’s eyes lit up then. “Yeah? I mean, only if you want to try it…”

“Sure, I’ll give it a go,” he replied quickly. “When in Rome, eh?”

Once they had cleaned themselves up, Harry settled back down on the couch next to Ron and restarted the video game as though nothing of great significance had just occurred.

“Right,” he sighed. “Where were we? Oh yeah, we need to go talk to the blacksmith in New Tristram and find out if he knows where Leoric’s crown is.”

Ron raised his eyebrows in surprise but he merely shrugged. “Uh, okay.”

Neither of them talked about what had just happened. In fact, they spent the rest of the day in relative silence as they played their video game. Ron didn’t mind, though. He wasn’t one for talking about his feelings, and neither was Harry, thank Merlin. He didn’t fully grasp what he and Harry were now. Still best friends, for sure, but whatever else...well, he figured they’d just figure things out in their own way at their own pace.

“I’m bored playing this,” Harry sighed, tossing the controller to one side. “Fancy going to my room and watching some porn?”

Ron was taken aback by how forward the request was, but he didn’t need much persuading. “Okay.”

Harry clambered off of the couch and Ron hurried to follow him. Whatever this thing was between him and Harry now, it was bound to be infinitely more fun than playing video games.

**Author's Note:**

> **This work is part of the ongoing HP Crack!Fic Fest 2020.**
> 
> Please feel free to leave kudos/comments for the author here, or on our communities at [LJ](https://hpcrackficfest.livejournal.com/)/[DW](https://hpcrackficfest.dreamwidth.org/)/[Tumblr](https://hpcrackficfest.tumblr.com/).


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